Sleepover
by Frannie Grace
Summary: Sam/Bailey or Sam/John-Reader's choice. Some 2nd season spoilers.


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Disclaimer: Hmm..I can't think of anything fun to say, so I'll be bland. Profiler is property of NBC and all the execs listed at the end of the show. All characters are used without permission, and please don't sue; all I have is eight dollars and seventy-nine cents in change.

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Author's Notes: This is an unbiased romantic story involving Sam and the man of your choice. I wrote it the way I did for that very reason. (No name for the guy.) Is it John? Is it Bailey? That's up to your imagination. I have one rule, though. **It is NOT Coop.** (Okay, so it's not completely unbiased.)

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Sleepover

By Gayle F. Cox

Sunshine peeked through the curtains above the bed, and Sam watched it play across the sheets.

_Made it through another night._ Beside her, the bed creaked. _Of course, this time I had some help._ Sam turned over and watched the man beside her.

He had shown up just a few minutes after Sam had gotten home; a handful of files his excuse. "These have to be done immediately. I've got people breathing down my neck."

She had stepped aside, opening the door wider. "Come on in. I'll order Chinese if you'll clear off the coffee table."

"Kung Pow Chicken for me." He organized the chaos on the coffee table while Sam made the call.

When she came back from the kitchen with sodas in hand, he was sitting on the couch; his suit jacket on a chair and his sleeves rolled up. "Food's going to be here in a few minutes." She tossed him a soda.

He popped it open and took a drink. After setting the can on the table, he held up two files. "Do you want Reynolds or Cogan?"

"I'll start with Cogan. Reynolds will take more time." Sam accepted the file and sat on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. "How many files do we have to organize?"

"Twenty-six, last I checked. George shoved a few more into my hand as I was leaving."

"Remind me to thank George." Sam smiled.

He smiled back. "I'll tell him to hide."

*

Altogether there were thirty-three files that had to be worked on. By the time they were finished the Chinese remains were stuck to the container and empty soda cans filled the recycle bin.

Sam stood and stretched. "Ugh, my eyes are burning."

"Mine too." He stretched as well. "At least we're done."

"Considering we didn't even have to do it." Sam saw the surprise flash across his features.

"How'd you know?"

"Instinct, plus the knowledge that our files only get reviewed once every six months, and we sat around doing it three months ago with the whole team." She shrugged. "I figured you just wanted to talk."

He was busted. He knew it. "Actually, it was more to see how you were coping since Tom's parents got temporary custody of Chloe." The pain on her face made him wince inwardly. "Sam, I'm-"

She waved him off. "You didn't mean to remind me; I know." Sam looked at him quizzically. "Why _exactly_ did you come by?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "The whole truth?"

"Yes, the whole truth."

"Angel is gone, Chol is in your in-laws custody, and you're alone in a prison that Jack built." He gave her a wan smile. "You're alone, Sam, by force more than choice, and I thought you could use a friend."

In a few quick steps, Sam was across the room and kissing him. For a second, he was shocked, then plain good sense kicked in, and he kissed her back. It was soft, slightly emotional, and underlying with serious unrequited feelings.

Sam pulled away and wrapped her arms around his torso. "Thank you."

He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. "You're welcome."

"I want you to stay tonight."

His eyes widened at her request.

She squeezed his forearm. "Not like that. I just want someone to hold onto tonight."

"I'm very good at being held." Her smile made him smile. "I'm good at holding, too."

They walked into the bedroom, leaving the Chinese containers until morning and got under the covers. Sam moved to the middle of the bed and ducked under his arm. Her head came to lie on his shoulder, and she smiled at him. 

"Thanks for staying."

"I'll sleep on the couch if you get uncomfortable."

Sam wrapped an arm around his stomach. "Don't leave."

His free arm came around to cradle her side. "I won't. Goodnight, Sam."

She inched closer. "Goodnight."

*

He turned over and opened his eyes. Sam smiled at him. "Good morning."

"Morning." Resettling the pillows against the headboard, he sat up. "How'd you sleep?"

"I didn't wake up until this morning. It was a nice change." Sam moved over to him and leaned against his chest. "What do we do?"

"About what?"

"Telling people why you spent the night."

He wrapped an arm around her waist. "How about the truth? I came over with files, and we fell asleep."

"You came over with files hiding ulterior motives, and we slept together." Sam reminded him.

A shrug. "So tell them we slept together, and that was _all_ we did was sleep. There are no rules against it. Just like there are no rules against us seeing each other."

"You want to see me?"

He was amazed at her surprise. "Samantha, I love you. I want to see you, sleep next to you, and I want you in my life."

She ran a hand through her hair. "You love me?" He nodded. "I don't know if I can say that just yet."

"Tom?" She nodded. "You have no reason to feel bad."

"No, I don't feel bad. I feel," Sam looked up in thought. "I feel confused right now. I _know_ I have feeling for you, but I'm still unscrambling them."

He reached for her hand. "Sam, you don't have to say it. I can wait. As long as you need."

"Thank you."

"There is one condition."

Her voice held confusion. "What?"

"I get to sleep next to you tonight, too."


End file.
